


He's an Opportunist at Heart

by Lilviscious



Series: Batfam Bingo 2019 - Lilviscious [7]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Batfam bingo 2019, Gen, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 22:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18837976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilviscious/pseuds/Lilviscious
Summary: Part 6 of the Batfam Bingo 2019!Fill: Don't Let Me GoTim has lost it all: his best friends, his surrogative father, and now his title as Robin. Ever the opportunist, when the chance to end it all presents itself, Tim finds that he simply doesn't care anymore and wants to let go. Or does he?





	He's an Opportunist at Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for suicidal thoughts/scenes ahead, obviously. There's also a lot of cursing.
> 
> It never sat well with me how 'easily' Tim got over the fact that Dick took the Robin title from him and gave it to Damian, and how Tim dealt with this in the Red Robin comics. The series is amazing, and I wish there was more, but let's face it: Tim had enough death and betrayal in his life that it makes you wonder, why continue at all?

Don't do this, he begs him silently in the emotional hazard that is his mind. With everything going on, he needs this and needs Dick to see it without him having to say it, because his throat is clenching painfully and Tim fears he might only be able to squeak instead of explain how desperate he feels.

A hand lands on his shoulder, squeezes him reassuringly. "You'll be fine, Tim, I know it," Dick tells him, _Batman_ tells him. Behind him Damian adorns the new Robin costume, grades it in the reflection of the costume cases, in front of Jason's previous rendition.

For crying out loud, that disrespectful little piece of _shit_. Tim swallows against the bile burning the back of his throat. Devil spawn, the manifestation of the sin Pride itself. Tim stares with a gaze so intense Dick shakes him a little to see if he's still listening. He bites his tongue, tastes iron liquid and meets his brother's analyzing eyes.

He nods in understanding. "See you tomorrow," Tim says with great effort and a poor imitation of Dick's smile. He sees his brother's face fall, become something sullen and can't deny that he feels good about it if only for a minute.

He fixes the domino mask on his face, looks down at his own Robin suit. Tim makes it out of the cave on his motorcycle, succeeds in exiting its long system like any other day and looks back at the Manor in the distance. His fingers peel off the big R from his chest, flicking it to the side where it vanishes among rocks and greenery. 

He has a date with Ra's and his league of assassins, an appointment he arranged and scheduled. It sounds like a good way out. Get some last intellectual banter in with the Demon's Head, release some remaining frustration while whacking ninja with his staff as he prepares for it to be too much, too overwhelming.

Tim wishes he could persuade himself to think he's flying so he could close his eyes and enjoy this, revel in the wind ruffling his hair. Gravity, however, is an instant party pooper. He's aware he's not flying, but falling, pretty fast, too. He opens his eyes against the air's pressure, sneaks a peek at the nearing ground below and decides he can't be bothered to do anything about it.

His body is broken, his mind torn, his heart shattered. 

This might be the opportunity he has been waiting for. He couldn't do it himself, not with pills or with a gun. Yes, he's a coward like that. But right in this moment where he is diving down after being thrown out of a skycraper's window: he can play it off as a job hazard. Heroes die, it happens.

Tim laughs shortyly and reminds himself of the sting in his chest where he was stabbed. He thinks himself a hero, how laughable. He's an opportunist at best. He was lonesome at his home, and Batman missed a partner. Win-win-situation, he had called it when unmasking Batman. Not really a lie, but Batman didn't need him as a Robin as much as he needed Batman at the time. Tiny Tim needed a goal, guidance and figured he could do some good in return. Tim never considered himself a brave hero, no, just a clever opportunist. Utilize the means and people to acchieve your heart's desire. The reluctance in changing his current directory, of calling for help, is still proof of that as Tim accepts his final wish.

"Agh!" He cries out in pain when another figure collides with him and his momentum is forcibly altered. His stomach turns, bloodied gloved hands pushing against a frame much bigger and firmer than his. At first his heart leaps in his throat, thinking it might be Kon, Conner, his best friend. Then his heart breaks all over again, because, ah yes, it can't be, he's _dead_. His destination is the flat roof top of a nearby dry cleaner's shop. His legs give in the moment he lands. His knees are padded but ache nevertheless as he falls down onto them. It takes an eternity for him to lift his head and bestow his saviour with a disgruntled look.

"Is this a joke to you?" His voice cracks with emotion.

"Yeah, welcome to life," Red Hood snaps at him, attaching his grapple gun back to his belt.

His vision blurs with tears. No, he thinks desperately and moves to the edge of the roof to assess if another drop down can still take his life. Tim chokes on a sob: it won't, it will break more bones but won't do the trick.

Heavy boots scrape the concrete behind him, Jason nearing cautiously. "The fuck man?" he whispers mostly to himself, leaning forward to check what Tim's looking at. It takes a moment for him to release a breathy laugh in realization. "Wow, just _wow_. Here I am, thinkin' to do my good deed for the day," the man jests.

Tim presses the palms of his hand to his eyes, pushes down hard to fight the quaking of his body and the tears streaming down his face.

"This is fuckin' pathetic," Jason adds and removes his helmet to rub his face.

"Just go," Tim yells at him, but his voice lacks the ferocity to convince the man. "Just go, or finish it. I know you want to, you've certainly tried plenty times over!"

Yes, Tim's ever the opportunist. Fine, his drop down didn't end it, but here stands the man who has been terrorizing his life for months. Surely this can still be fixed. He can fix this, if he persuades Jason to _just do it_. His world spins when he is lifted from the ground, away from the ledge. Feet no longer touching the ground, Tim dangles in mid air and is at Jason's mercy.

"Come on, do it. Promise I won't come back," Tim groans with a tiny sharp smile.

A fist collides with his jaw, hard. His teeth nearly rattled at the impact. "Ya have no idea what I'd give to have never died in the first place," Jason snarls at him, clutching the front of his costume tightly. "Dyin' aint the fuckin' solution. Boo hoo, ya lost yer place in the dysfunctional thing we call family, join the club. Deal with it."

Tim shakes his head, biting his lips to keep from crying again. "I can't, I'm.. not like you. I'm done."

Breathing gets easier when Jason lowers him. His legs are shaking, and he fears falling over, but Jason's still holding on to him, fist ever so slightly trembling. From what, Tim wonders as he looks back up into the man's face. He finds teal eyes shifting wildly, recalling memories most likely. When they steady again and settle on his watery ones, Tim reaches up to clutch at Jason's jacket. No, he needs him emotional, riled up enough to do it, _shoot_ him, _kill_ him.

His face must be an open book in this dire setting, because Jason shakes his head at him. "I'm not gonna kill ya, kid," he tells him softly.

Tim's hands fall from his jacket to hang limply. "Figures, what good you are," he snarks tiredly. Back to the drawing board, it seems.

"Yeah, I suck," his brother agrees, pulling a snort from Tim. "And ya don't. Which is why ya can't let this break ya. Who the fuck gives a shit about a brat stealin' that R? Fuck him."

"Dick gave him the title," Tim protests weakly, looking away at the painful memory.

Jason pulls a face, shrugs a shoulder. "Well, fuck him too."

"I took the R from you," Tim reminds him, growing suspicious of Jason's lack of violence against his very existence.

The older man sighs, sucks on his tongue. "Nah, I never really had that R to begin with. Not like he did," Jason decides with a wistful look to his left. "Listen. The R doesn't make ya a Robin. Hell, bein' a Robin sucks ass anyway." No, it didn't. Tim saw the clenching of Jason's jaws. Being Robin is amazing. _Having been_ Robin sucks.

There's a gentle punch to his chest, his heart. Jason punches insistently until Tim's looking at him again, grabbing his wrist to stop the motion. He narrows his eyes at the man who starts snarling in return and finally releases his costume, pushes him away. "Don't be a pussy, pretender. If I catch ya fallin' off a buildin' on purpose again: I'mma beat your ass."

Tim rubs his chest through his uniform, watching the older man take his leave without another word. He might not agree with how things ended today, certainly disagrees with how Jason leads his vigilante life, but there is new information and different paths to investigate and learn from.

Kon's gone, Stephanie's gone. Dick doesn't want him as his partner anymore. Damian's a hell spawn contaminating his family. Jason is somehow there for him, but someone he doesn't wish to become and Batman, Bruce, is missing, assumed dead. He still refuses to believe it. Tim peels his cowl back, inhales deeply to steady the rapid beating of his heart. Lost once more, he thinks bitterly, recalling those lonesome days at his eerily silent home when he was little. 

Back to the drawing board, he repeats to himself catching the infamous Batsignal adorning Gotham's clouded night sky. A flicker of hope stirs the broken fragments of his heart, drawing them together like magnets. It makes him attempt a smile. Batman. He will find him, at all costs. Because if he doesn't succeed, what's there to even try for? "Batman needs a Robin," Tim mutters, pulling his cowl back in place. And he needs Batman.


End file.
